In the noise of wheels,
ringing bicycles,
chairs gone missing
and people moving too fast,
I still arrived.
I carried tea warmth
inside tired hands,
held my headache quietly,
and folded myself back into the day
again and again.
Across the workshop,
between cotton boxes, stickers,
laughter, teasing,
and crowded tables,
there were small moments
that stayed soft.
A quiet thumbs up.
A murmured “go.”
A fist bump before home time.
Not loud.
Not dramatic.
But real enough
for my tired heart to notice.
I kept working
even...

In the morning, the day already felt heavy. I woke up at 6am and prepared gouqizi, lavender tea and my medicine from the doctor. The cordyceps finished already so I prepared chicken essence to put inside the drawer. I was still angry from earlier incidents and honestly a bit afraid of myself when I become too angry. I prepared my clothes for Wednesday and tried to settle myself before going out with my mother for hair treatment.
My mother kept telling me what to do in the morning and saying we...

This morning began slower, softer.
I woke up at 7am, after about 7 hours and 20 minutes of sleep.
There was a quiet rhythm to everything — preparing gouqizi and matcha, brushing my teeth, bathing, getting ready step by step.
My mum went out for a while while I was in the middle of my routine.
I took out my own breakfast — a sardine puff — and ate on my own.
There was a small craving for McDonald’s,
but I let it pass.
Not everything needs to be acted on.
The morning felt calm.
Simple.
Manageable.

Later,...